Better Alone
by Giantpanda
Summary: During Solitary, Sayid thinks about what he did to Sawyer, and makes a plan for his future.


TITLE: Better Alone  
RATING: PG  
SUMMARY: During Solitary, Sayid thinks about what he did to Sawyer, and makes a plan for his future.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Lost and am not making a profit. If they were mine, then there would be more Shayid moments.

Sayid had been sitting starting out into the ocean for much too long. He knew that he should stand and begin mapping the island. However, he knew he had just used that as an excuse to remove himself from the rest of the castaways; creating a map was the last thing on his mind. He had known that if he had voiced his true motivations, he might not have gotten away. Kate would have tried to stop him, she had attempted once already. Jack may have tried, but he knew Sawyer would not have. He wondered if the others would even notice he was gone, or if they even knew why.

He picked up a handful of sand, and watched as it slipped through his fingers as if in an hourglass. He did it again, and again, trying to find anything to distract himself from the thoughts racing through his mind. It was as if the sand was the new man that he had thought he had become and it slipped away each time. He had tried so hard to suppress the man he had become in the Guard, but apparently it was not hard enough. At the first sign of trouble, he had reverted back to that person.

He wished that he could continue to lie to himself, to tell himself that his actions had solely been because that young woman was suffering from an asthma attack. But he knew that was only a piece of the puzzle. If anyone other than Sawyer had been accused, he would not have gone to such extreme measures. Instead, he would have used the techniques that he had learned in questioning to get the answers he needed. There had been no excuse for turning to violence.

In his mind he kept replaying what he had done. It was on a loop and he was forced to watch over and over again, the look of pain that flashed on Sawyer's face. The problem was that sometimes another face would come to mind. The agony in Nadia's eyes, both physical and emotional, sometimes replaced Sawyer. Only hers was worse because they knew each other better, had gone to school together. He had never expected something like that to occur between them. In all honesty, he had forgotten about her until that moment in the interrogation room when he had said her name, and she had told him that no one called her Noor.

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to think of something else, anything other than his victims' faces. Unfortunately, with his eyes closed, he was able to see everyone more clearly. He could remember everything he did to each one, what information he was able to extract, and the justifications he had used so he could sleep at night. Now it seemed that all those rationalizations had fallen away leaving him with the truth. He was simply a horrible person.

Sayid knew that only a monster could have done what he had done during his time in the Guard. He had wondered since the plane crash, why he had been allowed to survive. He knew there had to be people, good people on that plane who had died, while he still lived. He didn't deserve this second chance. He despised how quickly his former self had resurfaced.

But then that brought about even more questions and doubts. He had buried that person, or so he had thought, but maybe it was impossible to bury one's true self. Maybe it was the man he had tried to be on the island that was the fake. Maybe his whole life had been a lie, except for his years of service.

He pulled out the pictures of Nadia he always carried. The ones he had stolen from her prison file and the ones that the CIA had given him. She had believed that he was a good man, and he had held onto that belief for seven years. If she believed, maybe then it was the truth. But now, stranded on an island with little hope of rescue, he knew he would never be able to verify what she had said. Did it even matter anymore? Maybe she had simply lied to him, manipulated him into believing he was good so that he would in the end help her. He had shot a man for her, a man who was his friend. Would he have done that if he were a noble man?

He was exhausted. He wanted to stop the battles raging inside of him. He wished that he could just rest, instead of fighting so hard to keep that monster at bay. He just wanted it all to stop.

Which was why he had lied to Kate. He had no plan on going back. He knew that he needed to disappear. They would all be better off without him. There were enough risks and dangers to the castaways, and he did not need to add himself to that mix. He would stay away, far away. He had walked for hours along the edge of the beach. He did what he could to erase his footprints, just as he hoped to erase himself from their memories.

His eyes crinkled in confusion as he saw a large cable running up from the water into the jungle. He stood to investigate it. Maybe he would not need to hide himself on this side of the island. Maybe whatever was connected to the cable would make it unnecessary. Either way, he would not be returning back, not that he expected them to care. They would believe that he was dead.

It was for the best, because inside he already was.

The End


End file.
